Jack's Stowaway
by stealingseamonkeys
Summary: Charlotte is sick of working at 'The Wilted Rose': one of the many brothels in Tortuga. Seeing the opportune moment, she stows away on Jack Sparrow's ship. NOT [i hope] a Mary Sue. Please R & R! Rated for sexual references.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everybody,**

**Yeah, I'm doing a new story. Sparrow or Swann is done, so I'm bored. Let me tell you something: I HATE my story On The Run. It's now deleted. So I'm doing this one. Hope you like it!**

**Love,**

**SSM ;)**

**Oh yeah: Disclaimer: I don't own Pirates Of The Caribbean. So please don't sue me, I only get ten bucks a week as it is.**

oOo

I waited behind the old desk, trying to ignore the sounds of shrieks and giggles coming from the numerous amounts of bedrooms behind me.

A clearly drunken man staggered into the room and draped himself over my desk.

"Who's 'ere, love?" He drawled at me. I wrinkled up my nose at the smell of alcohol on his breath. He was obviously stone drunk. A fine bead of drool slipped its way out of his mouth and splattered onto my desk. I considered refusing him acsess to the girls, but the words of my boss flowed into my head.

"_Never turn down a willing, paying customer."_

I studied the list in front of me. "Um… Scarlet, Clara, Nicole, Mary, Janet, Beth and Kim." I replied.

"You're not going ta spread your pretty little legs for me, are ya darlin'?" The man slurred.

"Sorry Mr Johnston, not tonight." I answered, smiling through gritted teeth.

He gave me a smirk. "I'll 'ave Scarlet then."

"A fine choice Mr Johnston, I'll go get her for you."

I pulled myself up from my chair and strode over to the back room where the whores waited for their next job. I slunk around the other girls, pruning and preening themselves in front of the mirrors that lined the room, and wandered up to the thin blonde girl Mr Johnston had requested.

"You've got a job, Scarlet." I said, watching her swipe herself with a brush with enough eye shadow on it to sink most of the boats in Tortuga.

"Who?" She asked carelessly, applying white powder from a little case to cover up the fine wrinkles that lined her face.

"Mr Johnston. Your favorite customer."

She groaned, slamming down the little case and causing powder to blow up and settle on the table, giving the impression that it had snowed. "You've gotta be kiddin' me, Charlotte. That man can't go for six hours without a shag. He better pay well."

She rose and gave me a shove out of the way. "Let's get on with it then. What room's free?"

"Number seven."

"Alright. Send 'im in."

She sauntered off, pulling the neckline of her dress as low as it could go.

I rolled my eyes and went back to the desk, where Mr Johnston was having a conversation with my inkbottle.

"So, how 'as the weather been?" He slurred to it.

I bit my lip and sat down in the seat. "Scarlet's in room seven, Mr Johnston."

That took a few seconds to register. He looked at me cluelessly, his eyes not really focusing. "Oh." He finally answered. "I'll go now."

As soon as he staggered off, I lay down on the desk, cradling my head in my arms. I haven't always worked at 'The Wilted Rose'. Far from it. I lived in Port Royal, with my four sisters, for my entire life. I'm the youngest. My mother died when I was around eight, and I think I was the most effected by it. The twins, Dianne and Debra where eighteen at the time, and both had already married. Dianne had even had her first child. Suzanne was sixteen, and was busy flirting with the boys she found while working in the local pub, and Anne, who was just fourteen, was always down in the docks, chatting to the men in the Navy. I was the one who was still attached to my mother, in that little girl way. I guess I dealt with it by going down to the streets and seeing how many items I could steal.

Needless to say, my sisters all married and I was still fooling around in the streets. Father got fed up. On my nineteenth birthday, Father told me that I was promised to Mr Benjamin Baker. Mr Baker was… nice… as nice as a _forty seven year old _man could be. He was Father's best friend. They grew up together. I found that a little bit scary that my future children's father was the same age as my Father.

I ran away. I took my life savings and bought a ride on the first trader's ship I could see in the dock. It just so happened he was headed for Tortuga. And here I am, one year later. I managed to get the job as the receptionist at one of the brothels in town. I'm not saying I'm the Virgin Mary, I have had some jobs. But I'd like to think of myself not as a prostitute. Everyone else is free to call me what they want. But all I'm saying is that I only do it when I'm despite for a bit of cash. I manage to pay for a five-shilling-a-week room in one of the pubs around the corner, and that leaves me five shillings a week to get what food I can. It's surprising how much food I can buy with that. If I get the bread from the day before, I can make my pay stretch.

I haven't heard from my family since I left. Not that they know where I am. I could just see Father's face if he knew I was working in a brothel…

" 'Ello? Are ya deaf, little missy? I've been here for at least a minute, tryin' ta get ya attention. I'll say it one more time: Can. I. Get. A. Girl?"

I blinked at the man who stood in front of me, looking agitated. "I'm so sorry, sir. Let me go get someone for you." I stammered, getting up quickly and rushing over to the back room.

My life had certainly changed. And it was about to change again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Yeah, another chapter. PLEASE REVIEW!**

**SSM ;)**

oOo

I sat at the bar of the pub I sleep at, sipping my bottle of wine. I love watching all of the men that come in here. Some are traders, with their quick voices and their stolen goods they sell. Some are old men, looking around for a girl to flirt with. But the best are pirates.

I have a real thing with pirates. I don't know why. They just seem so… I don't know. I was in luck that day night though. A pirate had bought his crew into the bar, and they where all laughing and getting stone drunk.

"Charlotte!" I turned to face my landlord, the man who owns the pub.

"Can you do me a favor, darlin'? I'm wiped out. Could you work the bar for a few hours?"

I sighed. "Mr Tinch, I'm exhausted. Can't – "

"I'll give you free breakfast for a week, and halve your rent for a month. I'm desperate, Char."

That was all he had to say. I grinned and jumped up.

"Thanks Charlotte. Tell everyone to get out at one, no matter how busy you are. Ok?"

"Of course, Mr Tinch." I said, making my way over to the bar. He gave me an awkward, one armed hug and muttered, "Thanks." And hurried off to his bedroom.

I served a few drunken men, and then my eyes lit up as I watched two of the pirates march over to the bar.

They both sat down and started to chat. I slid over and pulled out two glasses. "Would you like a drink?" I asked, cocking my head.

One of them smirked at me. He had a red bandana on and his hair was all in dreadlocks. He looked vaguely familiar…

"You're the one 'o works at the brothel around the corner, aren't ya?" He slurred, leaning closer to me.

I have a real thing about men who sees me at a brothel and assumes that I'm a whore. I scowled at him. "I work as the receptionist, thank you very much – "

He laughed. "Don't get all defensive on me, love. I know wha' ya do there." The other intervened. He was a stoat, stocky man with a white beard, speckled with grey. "Come on Jack, we've got business to do. We'll 'ave two rums, thanks." He said. I turned on my heel and filled up the two glasses. I don't know what made me do it. Honestly I don't. But it had been a long day, and now I was working here… the dreadlocked pirate was the last straw. I glanced around to see if anyone was watching. Then I drew in my breath and spat into one of the glasses.

I turned back and smiled at the two. I handed them both their drinks, being careful to give the dreadlock his right glass.

The door to the pub swung open and hit the window next to it, causing a crash and tinkering to braking glass. I looked up, horrified. Someone had broken the window! Oh no, Mr Tinch was going to kill me…

Then I realised who the man was who entered. "Shit…" I whispered to myself, sinking as low as my legs would allow behind the bar.

He saw me anyway. Mr Johnston staggered over to the bar and leant across it, his eyes rolling around in his head.

" 'Ello, Char-Char." He slurred at me, grabbing me by the neckline of my dress and pulling so my face was about half an inch from his.

"Mr Johnston." I squirmed, trying to escape his grip. He pulled me closer, so our noses touched.

"I'm sick of all of the whores." He slurred loudly. "You're the only one in tha' place that's left. Do ya have a room 'ere?"

"I'm not a prostitute, Mr Johnston." I snapped. I know what I said earlier, about people can make up there own minds, but this was just wrong.

"Every woman's a whore." He growled, attempting to pull me over the bar.

The dreadlocked man leant over to us. "I don't think she wants to, mate." He said to Mr Johnston. I gave another vicious tug at my dress, causing it to rip at the sleeve. "Who cares if she wants ta?" He cried, tugging on me again. I did the only thing I could think of: I slapped him across the face as hard as I could.

He let go, more out of surprise then anything else. I took my chance. I jumped the bar and took off into the night. I passed men and women in a blur, I had never ran so fast. I was so sick of this. This was the ninth time someone had attempted to rape me while I was here. I wanted to get out of Tortuga. But I couldn't go back home. I couldn't go anywhere…

I stopped in surprise as I found myself on the docks. I glanced around at all of the ships. On a sudden impulse, I walked over to the closest one and climbed slowly on board. Two men where there with rum bottles in their hands. They where sitting with their backs to me. I quietly walked down a small flight of stairs, and opened the first door I could see. It was obviously a storage room. Barrels of food, swords and gun powder where all stacked in there. I couldn't believe what I was doing. But I sat down on the floor, carefully closing the door behind me. I ate a bit of the heavily salted meat that was in one of the crates, curled up and fell into a deep sleep.

**PLEASE REVIEW!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hee hee, I got reviews! Oh sorry, hey everyone. Anyway, I'm updating coz when I go back to school won't have a lot of time to. Anyway, answers:**

**TropycalFyshe: Thanks for reviewing mine, I feel special. And look, I'm updating! **

**Pirateobsessed: Yeah, I am. Thanks for reviewing, I hope you like it.**

**Ogreatrandom: Hey, good to hear from you again! And yes, I kept forgetting to in that chappie, but I'll try to in this one. You update your story soon too, coz I want to know what's happening!**

**Ann: Thanks, hope you like this chapter!**

**Ok, if anyone has suggestions about what could happen I'd love to hear them, coz I have NO idea. Talk to you all soon!**

**Love,**

**SSM ;)**

oOo

I slowly woke up, and sat bolt upright. Food and swords surrounded me…

Oh my Lord, I'd stowed away in a ship. I clutched my head. This was very, very bad. I must have had too much of that wine last night. I ran away just because Mr Johnston tried to get me in bed. Lord, how could I be so stupid?

It's ok; I'll just get of the ship. No one will ever know what I did.

I stood up to be knocked off my feet again. Shit, the ship was moving. We where sailing. Oh no…

I ran to the door and pulled on it. Of course it was locked. I really began to panic then. What was I going to do? I went to pound on the door, but realised the last thing I wanted was to be discovered.

I went back and huddled in one of the corners. I fished around in one of the barrels and managed to find an apple and a bit of meat. Just as I had finished eating it however, the door began to rattle.

My breathing became ragged. I clambered quickly (and loudly) behind some crates, pulling myself into the smallest ball my body would allow. Just in time too. The door burst open with a loud bang.

I crouched lower, staring at the crate in front of me. I couldn't see who had entered, but judging from the footsteps it was a man. I could hear barrels being moved, and a grunting noise. The footsteps where getting closer, still moving barrels. Then there was a silence. I was just starting to believe that he had gone, when the crate that hid me was lifted high above my head.

I looked up, terrified. A pot-bellied man stood above, smirking down at me. "Well well well, what do we have here?" He whispered. I couldn't think of a suitable answer. He didn't seem to care though. He grabbed me roughly by my hair and dragged me to my feet.

"The Cap'n will be very interested in _you_," He whispered in my ear. He tugged me harshly up the stairs and onto the deck. I looked wildly around, but in all four directions was only the clear blue ocean.

"Cap'n!" The man shouted. All of the crew stopped and stared at me. I stood stock still, not wanting for the man to tug on my hair anymore.

"Who's that?"

The man turned, making me spin with him. I let out a gasp. It was the dreadlocked man I had served last night!

He frowned at me. "You're the lass who spat in me drink last night, weren't ya?"

I bit my lip. I was sure no one had seen that. He let out a low laugh. "Jack Sparrow sees everything, love." He whispered, as if reading my mind. He turned to look at the other man. "Put 'er down, she isn't goin' nowhere."

The man let me go and I massaged my scalp. The captain grabbed my wrist. "Why are ya on me ship, lassie?" He slurred, looking at me through half-slit eyes.

I started talking very fast. "I'm-really-sorry-I-was-drunk-last-night-and-then-Mr-Johnston-came-and-I-didn't-know-what-to-do-and-I-was-running-and-was-at-the-dock-and-I-climbed-on-this-ship-I-had-no-idea-it-was-yours-and-I'm-realy-sorry-and-I'll-never-do-it-again-so-could-you-possibly-let-me-go?"

He stared at me. "You're drunk, lass." He said. "Drunk. Off your wagon."

"No I'm not-"

"Mr Cotton! Take this lass down to the brig. We'll let her out when she can talk some sense." He called out. An elderly man came over and grabbed me by my upper arm.

I was sweating. "No…please, don't do this…"

Needless to say, no one paid me any attention. The man (who surprisingly didn't even tell me to shut up… he didn't say anything, actually) just pulled and tugged me to the bottom of the ship and pushed me into one of the tiny little cells.

I turned, ready to escape, but he had already turned the key and hung them on the other side of the room on a hook. I sunk to the floor, and watched as a rat that must have been bigger then the mugs we serve drinks in at the tavern scuttle across the ground.

So I sat there, rocking back and forth with the waves.

I've never been seasick before.

I was then.

And all over the cell floor.

I have no idea where I will sleep, the floor's covered in my half-digested food.

**Sorry it's so short, but I really want to go to bed. Night!**

**Oh yeah: PLEASE REVIEW! COMPLIMENT! FLAME! DO ANYTHING!**

**for those not as bright as others, the review button is on your left. Thank you**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey everyone,**

**Sorry I haven't updated for ages, with my puppy and school and friends my schedule's been chockablock (hee hee to all you Yankies, bet you don't know what that means!). Anywho, thank you all for reviewing. Answers:**

**Ogreatrandom: Thank you! And thanks for updating your story, I love it!**

**Pickled Princess: Lurve your pen name, by the way. Thanks for reviewing. And thanks about the realistic thing, I hope that's true. Hey, not a million! Maybe nine thousand…**

**Farewell-Goodnight: Love your suggestion, let me think about it.**

**Pirate Inxs: I always spit in peoples drinks. gets funny looks from random people doesn't everyone?**

**Sophie: Thanks soph. Would you, by ANY chance whatsoever, be sophie Duncan?**

**Anyway, thanks everybody for your wonderful reviews! **

**SSM ;)**

oOo

I slipped restlessly into nightmare-filled sleep, trying to huddle as close as I could to myself so a) I would keep warm and b) I wouldn't lie in my regurgitated mess I had created. I had no way of telling the time. It had seemed like hours since the pirate had tossed me in here.

I heard footsteps banging down the stairs. Hoping it was someone coming to release me, I rose unsteadily to my feet and stumbled over to the bars of my cage. My shoulders slumped and I let myself fall back down on the ground when I saw it was only Sparrow. I watched as he strolled towards me in a lazy gait, having a slight frown on his face.

He squatted down so his face was level with mine. I watched as his eyes slowly traveled across the floor of my cell. He gave a small sigh and looked me up and down.

"You're sick." He said flatly, stroking the little braids at the end of his chin. I didn't say anything. I didn't trust myself. If he thought I was drunk, he'd leave me here…

"What's your name?" He asked, leaning closer to me.

"Ch-Charlotte Flightier." I whispered, visibly shaking.

His eyebrows flew up so high they where hidden from sight by his bandana. He didn't comment though. "Why are ya on me ship?" He only asked softly.

"I was drunk last night. I just got onto this ship, and I'm really sorry. Could you please let me go?"

He burst into a drunken laughter. "Let ya go? Love, we've been sailing for nine hours. Ya really think I'm about ta turn me ship around just ta _let ya go?_"

But before I could reply, he pulled out a ring with a singular key swinging to and fro on it. He opened the cell door swiftly and grasped my upper arm, pulling me to my feet.

"On th' other though, I suppose you can come up and at least eat somthin'. Settle your stomach."

I allowed him to tug me up the tiny staircase. I shielded my eyes as unexpected sunlight filtered the deck. Men rushed over the wooden floors, talking and yelling to each other. I felt overwhelmed.

The other man in the bar the night before hurried up to us. "What's the plan, Cap'n?" He asked, jerking his head slightly in my direction.

Sparrow smirked. "Guess she'll make a nice little plaything for the crew…"

My legs began to shake. I took a step backwards, and almost fell over. I quickly looked down to see a sword beneath my feet.

I did the only thing I could think of. I picked it up and pressed it to Sparrow's back.

He turned quickly. "Is this wise, love?" He drawled, pulling out his own sword.

I knew it wasn't, but I only jabbed at him again. He quickly blocked me, and drew his sword swiftly to my legs, missing them by a hair. I pulled up my own to hit him in the head, but he blocked me again.

"You know the basics." He commented as we circled each other, waiting for the other to take the move.

"The local boys in my neighborhood used to teach me."

"Ahh. Were you any good then?"

I scowled and took a step forward to plunge my weapon into his chest. With a single swish of his arm, he sent my sword flying and held the tip of the blade at my throat. "Do ya yield, sweetheart?" He whispered.

It was then I realised that every man on the ship had crowded around us. They began to jeer, slowly reaching out to touch me.

"Now, now boys, not yet." Sparrow smirked. "I asked ya, do ya yield?" He suddenly turned the blade and moved closer, so the sword pierced my dress and the wood wall behind me combined. I was trapped. He let go of the handle, laughing along with his crew.

I felt my face heat up. I tugged at tugged at my sleeve, but it was made out of such strong fabric it would not tear. I looked Sparrow straight in the eye. "I yield, all right? I yield."

He placed a hand across my chest, and with the other hand he slowly pulled the sword out of the wood, then out of my sleeve. As I went to walk off though, he grasped my shoulders and roughly steered me to a cabin. He pushed me to the wall while he unlocked the door, then dragged me in. He pushed me to a bed, then turned and went to a chest of drawers.

I flopped on the bed, grateful for the comforting blankets. My back felt like it had broken from sleeping on the floor.

Sparrow strode over and held a piece of paper less then an inch from my face. "Ya know who this is, Miss Flightier?" He asked.

I sat up and studied the paper. It was actually a photograph. It showed a man with one wooden leg, and who was grinning at the camera. I looked closely at his face, and my stomach flipped.

"Well?" He asked impatiently.

I looked up coldly. "I have no idea, Captain. No idea what so ever."

To my dismay his face cracked into a grin. "Now Miss Flightier, I don't think you are being completely honest with Jack. Tell me the truth."

"No."

I didn't even see him do it. But the next second I was pinned down, eagle-spread, on the bed, with Sparrow lying heavily on top of me. "Get off of me!" I screamed, writhing beneath his iron-like grip.

"He's ya Grandfather, isn't he darlin'?" Sparrow slurred. I looked up at him in amazement, speechless.

"I'll take the stunned silence as a yes." Sparrow whispered, laughing. "Now, you're going to tell me all ya know about ya Grandfather. Right here, right now."

Memories and flashbacks filled my mind. I remembered how he would come back with expensive gifts, kisses and hugs for my sisters and I. I recalled how he taught me how to fight. I evoked how he would always cause my Father to get so annoyed he would throw him out of the house, but my sisters would sneek him back in. I remembered the stories he told me about being a pirate, and how he said I was the only person that could keep his secrets. I recalled his soft voice telling me how to get to treasures, and where he would hide his maps.

I looked straight into Sparrow's eyes. "I don't remember my Grandfather."


End file.
